


Five

by anisstaranise



Category: Daredevil (TV), Glee, Gossip Girl, Grimm (TV), Hamilton - Miranda, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-10 14:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 5,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7849300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anisstaranise/pseuds/anisstaranise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of stories with multiple pairings written in five lines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seblaine + Magic

The echoes of Sebastian’s footsteps as he walked away from Blaine rebounded off the castle walls; the sound chiselled the cracks of his already broken heart open- wider, and wider still.

“Why can’t you be truthful with me?” Sebastian had pleaded, hands shaking in Blaine’s when he sensed the clouds of secrets Blaine had so carefully tethered to his heart that was slowly creating a chasm between them.

But how could Blaine be truthful about who he was to a knight who served a king who hated the likes of him, forbidding his kind the rights to live free as any man- no matter how much he loved Sebastian?

_To lose your head, or to lose your heart_ \- Blaine weighed within, regarding all the ways he could lose, the severity of such a loss- but it didn’t take long for him to gather the words, the courage before expelling them to bridge the distance between him and Sebastian: “I have magic.”

Sebastian stopped in his tracks and slowly turned, his green eyes glinting with something akin to curiosity and _relief_ where Blaine had expected to find contempt and disgust as a small smile tugged at the knight’s lips: “Show me.”


	2. Westhawne + Sunflowers

He weaves his way through a small crowd gathered in the gallery, idly lingering before various works of art framed in the grandeur of gold-leaves, the rectangular confines of the colours a burst of life amidst the mass of dull beige walls.

It is the final day of the Van Gogh Sunflowers exhibition and he and Iris have meticulously planned to sync their off-day so they could go together; anything for Iris.

His steps are muted against the murky greys of the wall-to-wall carpeting, silent like a cat padding through the night- so she doesn’t hear him approach.

He halts his movements a few feet away in favour of simply watching the woman he loves, regarding the creases of her brow as she admires the strokes of yellows and browns and oranges on the canvas, her brown eyes alight with wonderment and interest- and that breath-taking smile pulling at her lips as though the paintings had just shared a secret that’s meant only for her.

His heart expands with the ever-growing happiness that comes with loving Iris and while she moves on to another of Van Gogh’s masterpieces, he stands his ground amidst the milling gallery visitors, content to behold the _magnum opus_ that is Iris West.


	3. Mattelektra + Snow

He curls his lips on the bottle, sipping the beer indulgently while he tips it back and waits for the first signs of alcohol to slowly relax his tensed muscles, uncoil the knots in his weary nerves as he places his forehead against the window- the glass cool with winter grit.

He’s soothed by the gentle thud of the falling snow and soon he tunes out all the other sounds- an argument in the apartment down the street, a truck blaring its horn two blocks away- in favour of being lulled by the soft dwindling of the flurries.

But there’s one sound he can never truly tune out, the decibels growing now, drowning out all the other sounds in his world; the steady _thump-thumping_ of Elektra’s heartbeat.

Abandoning the bottle of beer on the kitchen counter, he turns his face towards the stairs that lead to the roof as his feet move on its own volition, drawn to the sound of Elektra.

On the roof, Elektra waits for him, as she always does and he can hear the falling snowflakes draping her lean frame, her dark hair, her long lashes, prompting a thought that beats true in his heart: Elektra is beautiful.


	4. Kastle + Danger

The muscles in his body tense, every fibre of him on high alert, spider-senses tingling as it always does when there’s an imminent danger, something unknown and perilous around the corner.

His steps are cautious, his breathing controlled as to not give his position away but he can’t help it; his body moving forward, drawn towards the danger of wispy blond hair, a slight frame clad in a radiant yellow summer dress and piercing blue eyes.

His heart stutters against his better judgement when she turns to smile at him, all his efforts of being incognito forgotten and it scares him to no end; he never thought it possible to feel this way again, not after the tragedy, not after his wife.

All the neon signs in his mind flashes furiously red, warning him; _Karen Page- danger_.

Yet, he throws caution to the wind, risking his heart and follows her anyway, wherever she may lead.


	5. Seblaine + Lost

The thudding of Blaine’s heart was loud in his ears, seething at the fact that he had let Santana talk him into agreeing to some ridiculous bet as he eyed the cards fanned out in between his fingers; the shittiest hand he had ever been dealt.

“Best two out of three and if you lose, Hobbit, you’re gonna have to make out with Sebastian,” Santana had quipped, her slender hands deftly dealing the deck of cards.

Blaine thought he had a great poker face but truly, he had never faced the likes of Sebastian Smythe; cool and collected despite his _royal flush_ or _bottom pair_ , making it impossible for Blaine to read him.

Blaine’s heart raced, panicking at the thought of having to kiss Sebastian- a boy he had had a crush on for awhile now- in front of their friends as he anticipated his final loss but instead he released a sigh of relief when Sebastian declared with a chuckle, “I fold.”

Later, out of curiosity, Blaine peeked at Sebastian’s cards when everyone had left the room, dumbfounded to find a _straight_ hand, his heart racing again at the realization that Sebastian had lost on purpose.


	6. Seblaine + Kiss

The blaring music was reduced to a muffle when Blaine slid the glass door closed, his chest still feeling the phantom vibrations of the thumping bass as his feet shuffled shyly towards the boy standing alone at the edge of the pool.

“Why did you fold?” Blaine asked abruptly, unable to contain the puzzling thoughts of earlier events whirring in his mind.

Sebastian turned to face him, a smile- not a smirk this time- etched on his lips, something playful glinting in his eyes as he confessed, “You looked like you were about to have a nervous breakdown at the prospect of having to kiss me- so I folded.”

“You may not know this- because I’ve been told that I can be quite the jerk at times- but I like you- and I very much would like to kiss you and have you kiss me back- but on your own terms,” Sebastian expounded when Blaine pressed on with “Why would you care?”

Sebastian’s response vibrated in Blaine’s veins, breathing some boldness into him to finally do what he had fantasized of doing night after night since he had been brave enough to admit that _yes, he liked Sebastian Smythe_ , and tiptoed up to take Sebastian’s lips in his.


	7. Dair + Naked

A kiss to his shoulder rouses him from sleep as he slowly, groggily turns to see Blair roll out of bed, his vision focusing on her silhouette bathed in the blue light of dawn that’s seeping through the sheer curtains of their apartment.

He watches her pull on one of his favourite t-shirts (and a favourite of hers to steal) over her head, her silky brown hair cascading over her shoulders as she pats Cedric atop its head in her daily morning ritual before she skips to the bathroom.

She returns a moment later, fresh-faced and minty breath, humming a tune as she moves about the room, tucking her bejewelled laptop into her work tote and laying out the day’s outfit at the foot of the bed.

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he watches her, happy and unbridled, the _real_ Blair that he’s privileged to bear witness; heart bare, soul naked, all for him.

When it feels his heart might burst with love and adoration for Blair Waldorf, she squeaks as he tugs her onto the bed, pulling off the t-shirt over her head, ready to bare his love naked and map it out over her skin.


	8. Nadalind + Laugh

A deafening shriek pierced through his sleep, prompting him to swiftly roll out of bed, his lightning quick _Grimm_ reflexes reaching for the gun stowed under his pillow for protection, finger curled on the trigger at the ready.

He padded through the loft hurriedly but quietly, feet instinctively taking him towards Adalind and Kelly, heart banging inside his chest, every bone in his body ready to defend his family.

Relief washed over him when he heard Adalind’s laugh- the happy lilting sound he had grown to adore- chasing the giggles of their son, hands clapping triumphantly on the playmat spread wide in the middle of their dimly lit living room.

“He rolled over on his own!” Adalind declared excitedly of their infant son’s milestone, her blue eyes twinkling with awe and pride and love, oblivious to the gun in his hand as she dragged him over by the arm, cooing and coaxing to Kelly, “Come on, baby, show Daddy.”

He stowed away the gun as he took his place next to Adalind- a place he found himself gravitating towards more often now, a place where he felt he was meant to be- and when Kelly happily rolled over on his own, the laugh that poured out of him matched that of Adalind’s in awe, pride and love.


	9. Seblaine + Strawberries

The sweet scent from the fruit stalls at the Farmer’s Market wafted through the air, deliciously flooding Blaine’s olfactory nerves, making him salivate slightly as his stomach rumbled in anticipation.

After having the misfortune of missing out on them all morning, Blaine reached the final fruit stall standing at the edge of the market in search of strawberries, its banners glowing bright white and grey in the daylight, feet aching but his heart steadily held on to hope that _this was the one_.

He surveyed the array of fruits filled to the brim in small, square containers neatly arranged on the table, relying solely on the scent and shape of the monochromatic fruits for identification when suddenly, Blaine’s heart fluttered upon spotting a dainty, square box full of the juicy, heart-shaped fruit- the last one- hastily reaching for it just as another hand did the same, their fingers brushing ever so slightly and suddenly there was a surge of electricity through his body; his heart raced, his skin tingled, his head spun.

The strawberries that had been grey a moment ago radiated bright red in Blaine’s hand amongst the sea of indigo blueberries and the sunny yellow of pomelos, making his eyes water at the onslaught of colours as Blaine turned to face the man next to him- his faint pink lips parted in surprise, his freckled face frozen in a dumbstruck expression- but the man’s eyes- the gorgeous jade greens were easily Blaine’s favourite colour.

A beat passed before the man smiled- so beautiful, Blaine mused- fingers forgetting the fruit container in favour of holding his hand, lips parting to form, “Hi, Blaine”- all the colours and their names innate now that they had met, like something awoken after a deep slumber- as his tongue easily emitted, “Hi, Sebastian.”


	10. Kastle + Blood

The fumes of iodine from the gentian violet wafts through the air as Karen dabs the purple-soaked cotton ball over the cuts on his knuckles but he barely winces- eyes trained only on her winsome features; her brows creased in concentration over the task at hand, the gentle slope of her nose, the tint of pink kissing her cheeks from the summer night’s heat, the luscious lips pulled in a tight line.

His lips part slightly, his tongue giving them a quick lick as his eyes tick to Karen’s red-painted lips, the shade matching her dress and his blood staining the gauze discarded on the coffee table.

“Shouldn’t have done that, you know,” she says, her tone chastising, then notes “I can take care of myself”- but there’s a glint in her blue eyes- something akin to a silent _Thank you_.

“I know,” he replies, thinking of the drunken man whose jaw he’s sure he had dislocated for disrespectfully rubbing against Karen at the bar, hurling misogynistic slurs and he can’t help but wonder if he had gone easy on the man compared to what she would have done- “But thanks for letting me, anyway.”

Karen smiles that beautiful smile of hers, lips pursed in a single red line and it’s all it takes for him to lean in, head tilting, eyes closing as he takes her lips in his, staining his skin the shade of her blood-red lipstick.


	11. Seblaine + Grieving

The blades of grass bend in the summer breeze as they stand before a small wooden crate turned upside down, heads bowing, unlit candles and flowers surrounding a large framed picture in the center- a photo of a toddler Blaine Anderson hugging a magnificent creature that’s ten times his size yet every bit the image of a gentle giant; Duke, the Anderson’s loyal Great Dane.

He hears Blaine sniffle as his best friend slowly walks over to the makeshift memorial and gently places Duke’s collar on it, the frayed leather a testament to the beloved mutt’s age.

His heart breaks at the loss of Duke, the amiable dog and Blaine had been his first friends when he had moved in next door almost three years prior, merely an eight year-old boy terrified and daunted by being uprooted and moved to a new city- but he can hardly imagine how Blaine is feeling; his best friend’s eyes are wet with infinite tears, his steps slow, his shoulders hunched under the weight of sadness.

That night, he slips through the loose ply of the wooden fence that separates the Andersons and the Smythes, creeping through the backyard to retrieve Duke’s collar and works all night under the light of candles on the crate at an idea he had to soothe some of his best friend’s grief.

The next morning, he presents the end product of his brainchild to Blaine; a friendship bracelet of colourful leather strings intricately entwined with a sole charm at the end of it- Duke’s diamond-shaped tag- a piece of his canine best friend that Blaine can carry with him for always.


	12. Nadalind + Woge

He slices thick, slanted chunks of carrots then slides them into a waiting bowl already filled with celeries and potatoes, the steady _chop-chopping_ where knife meets the cutting board the only sound amidst the sizzle of meat on the grill and Adalind’s habitual humming.

Although his eyes are trained on the task at hand, he still feels her move about the kitchen, occasionally pausing to feed a jovial Kelly who’s seated in his high chair spoons full of applesauce, then turning her attention back to the sweating onions on the stove or the bubbling sauce in the pot.

He cherishes these little moments of domesticity, a semblance of normalcy for Kelly that’s few and far between considering his father is a _Grimm_ and his mother a _Wesen_ , but they work- the three of them, their little new normal of a family.

Suddenly, there’s a loud _pop_ where a little moisture hits the hot oil as Adalind adds some of the vegetables to the sweating onions, her pained yelp quickly follows and when he turns to check if she’s alright, his sights are met with decaying flesh where Adalind’s creamy complexion had been, teeth jagged and rotting, hair pale as the moonlight; Adalind had involuntarily _woged_.

She turns away when their gazes meet just as her features ripple back to normal, a tint of embarrassment colouring her cheeks, but he doesn’t care- if he’s being honest, he cares for her enough to accept the woman she is and the _Hexenbeist_ within are one- and so he walks over to plant a soft kiss on her cheek to let her know; _you’re beautiful_.


	13. Seblaine + Kids

The door quietly nestled back in its frame, drowning out the excited noise of the Year 5 students when Blaine pulled it closed, a relieved sigh escaping his chest and _Thank God it’s Friday_ falling from his lips as he turned to walk down the corridor to the teachers’ lounge but Blaine only managed two steps before he was startled to a stop, almost colliding with another body, smiling wide once he realized that it was none other than Sebastian, ready to take over the class for their Math period.

“Mr. Anderson,” Sebastian greeted, slowly running a thumb over Blaine’s maroon and silver bowtie, the perfected knot bopping along with his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard at the sensualness of the touch.

“Mr. Smythe,” Blaine reciprocated, leaning slightly into the touch, his mind reliving moments of falling into bed together these past few months- tussling under sheets, teeth grazing at collarbones, fingers gripping hips, low rumbles of titillating moans- and he leaned in further still to meet Sebastian’s lips but they both froze, interrupted by fits of giggles from the classroom.

Blaine’s eyes tracked up the wall to the wide transom windows to find a handful of the students spying on him and Sebastian (how on earth did they get up there, he wondered), chuckling behind their hands while some made kissy sounds, some blowing a breath on the glass then drawing a heart in the fast disappearing fog.

Sebastian directed a stern look towards the kids, sending them scuttling- presumably back to their seats- before brushing his lips close to Blaine’s temple, quickening his heartbeat, whispering “See you at seven” just before Sebastian disappeared into the classroom.


	14. Seblaine + Forever

A cool draft swirls in the air, a hint of the impending summer heat tagging along in its midst as Sebastian cards his slender fingers through Blaine’s windswept curls, the silver and greens of his Quidditch attire clashing with the black and yellow of Blaine’s necktie.

They’re behind one of the tower bleachers on the Quidditch pitch where they had their arms tangled and their lips locked earlier in what Sebastian likes to call _celebratory snogging_ after Slytherin had won the game- but now, Blaine refuses to look at him.

Sebastian’s heart beats a calm rhythm, a tempo he’s used to when Blaine is close and he gently hooks a finger under his boyfriend’s chin, slowly, surely coaxing Blaine to look at him, his sights lost in deep brown eyes when Blaine finally does.

He’s well aware of Blaine’s worries, with summer fast approaching, N.E.W.Ts even faster still and soon enough they’ll be graduating, life’s paths that await them outside the castle walls may take them away from each other; testing their loyalty, their love.

Sebastian runs a thumb over Blaine’s kiss-swollen lips before kissing them again, gently nipping then slowly pulls away, retrieving his wand as he whispers an incantation to the wind and soon, **_s.s + b.a_** is magically inscribed on the tower’s post that he’s sure will be there for years, centuries to come, his silent promise of _you’re my forever, come what may_.


	15. Seblaine + Tongue

There’s a dizzying sensation of his stomach falling while a sweet high simultaneously courses through his veins as his heart thunders in his chest; it jolts him to an upright position, the chair scraping deafeningly in the quiet of the library.

He’s sure he’s never felt this way before, never one to be subjected to having _heart eyes_ \- as they say; it’s new, it’s delicious- and he wants more.

“Blaine-” he stammers, his voice shaking under the weight of giddy excitement and sheer lust, “- say that again.”

Blaine stares at him a moment, palms spread over pages bedecked with the words of Pablo Neruda, no doubt gauging the situation before a glint flashes in those hazel eyes- of mischief, of knowing he holds all the cards now, of equal sheer lust- and he’s sure if he were to look into a mirror every time he had cheekily thrown in a phrase or two in French just to elicit a lustful response from his boyfriend, he would have seen the exact same glint.

“ _Debajo de tu piel vive la luna-_ ” Blaine repeats- a husky whisper this time, the foreign words rolling on his boyfriend’s tongue and his stomach dips again, an intense warmth blossoming within as every bit of him- the hairs on his skin, the trembles in his veins- reacts lustfully to Blaine speaking Spanish.


	16. Seblaine + KissCam

The thumping bass of the music blaring throughout the arena vibrates on his skin, the squeak of sneakers subsiding as the halftime between the second and third quarters are announced and he breathes a sigh of relief; he knows little to nothing about basketball but he pushes through, he perseveres- for Sebastian.

He turns to look at his boyfriend slouching in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest, patiently waiting for the next quarter to begin but despite the extra measures taken to remain incognito, Sebastian seems relaxed, unbridled- and he can’t help but smile at the sight of Sebastian swimming in an oversized hoodie, his gorgeous face half-hidden by the Knicks snapback.

He runs his fingers through his dark curls then adjusts the Clark Kent glasses perched on the bridge of his nose; it’s not so much a disguise for him but it’s _him_ , away from the dapper, gelled-down haired persona he adopts for the public eye, from the characters he’s somehow typecast into playing on TV shows- and it feels... liberating.

And it’s just as liberating to spend time with Sebastian out in public, doing something that’s not dictated by their managers who had urged them to keep their relationship under wraps now that Sebastian’s career is soaring after being cast as the lead in a hit sitcom, fearing their relationship status would somehow effect the show’s success.

Suddenly, his attention is drawn to the image of his face and Sebastian’s on the screen of the Jumbotron, a digital stencil of a pink heart encasing them, the sounds of Hall & Oates’ _Kiss On My List_ ringing through the arena and he panics for a second thinking _This is it, the world knows about us now_ but if Sebastian cared about any of the repercussions, he doesn’t show it because his boyfriend is already kissing him ardently for the KissCam, the gesture a declaration; _Blaine is mine and I am his- and I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think._


	17. Hamliza + Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An imagined scene sometime during _Say No To This_ when Alexander sings : 
> 
> I wish I could say that was the last time.  
> I said that last time. It became a pastime.

The scratching of his quill against the parchment is deafening in the quiet study as he tries to drown it all- the nauseating guilt festering within, **_her_** scent that seems imbedded on his skin and clothes, the constant chorus of “ _What have I done?_ ” ringing in his ears- with words, words, words.

Silently, Eliza’s hands fall on his shoulders, startling him a little by her presence but she pulls him back to the shores of the present just the same; they’re anchors that keep him grounded amidst the whirling hurricane in his own mind and suddenly he feels the full weight of his betrayal.

He rises from his seat, stowing the quill in a pot of dark ink that reminds him of Eliza’s raven black tresses and before he’s swept under the current of his guilt once more, he takes her lips in his, kissing her in earnest- wishing, praying that the glide of their lips can erase the feel of **_her_** phantom kisses.

He pushes the silk robe off of his wife’s slender frame, taking her to bed, fingertips imploring as he lets Eliza’s hands explore the span of him, reclaiming all the curves and contours that **_she_** had a few days prior; this time, under Eliza’s touch, he does drown- and it’s a blissful reprieve.

But all too soon, he resurfaces as Eliza lies asleep next to him, their bodies sated but his mind whirs once more with “ _What have I done?_ ”- the guilt finally crashing over him in cold waves and red-painted lips of one Maria Reynolds.


	18. Seblaine + Serenade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for [Seblaintine's Day 2017](http://www.seblaineaffairs.tumblr.com)

A guitar strums outside the door of his dormitory and a smile tugs instinctively at the corners of his mouth; he knows it’s Blaine, he can _feel_ him.

Blaine’s gorgeous singing voice wafts in the spaces between them the moment he opens the door; “ _Maybe it’s much too early in the game but I thought I’d ask you just the same- what are you doing New Year’s- New Year’s Eve?_ ”

He rolls his eyes at Blaine’s serenade but a giddy chuckle bubbles in his chest in spite of himself as he asks, “Are you really singing a song to ask me out on New Year’s Eve- _today_ \- on Valentine’s Day- in _February_?”

Blaine stops his strumming; an endearing blush kisses his cheeks as he shuffles bashfully and says “I’m not taking any chances because I don’t want to spend New Year’s Eve- or New Year’s Day- or any other day from now on with anyone else but you.”

His heart flutters with happiness as he surges to kiss Blaine, the guitar squashed painfully between them but he doesn’t mind; what they have with each other is new but the fact that Blaine sees a future with him as far away as December makes him realize he’s in love and strives to tell Blaine just how he feels with each glide of his lips- _I love you, I want to spend New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day and all the days from now on with you._


	19. Seblaine + Heart(s)

“ _Brief is life but love is long_ ”  
\- Alfred Lord Tennyson

-

On their first date, Blaine’s heart had skipped a beat the moment Sebastian had stepped into the restaurant- out of breath, hair windswept, apologies spilling from his lips for being late- his train had stalled- but none of it mattered then; Sebastian had made it.

-

Blaine had wiped the pooling tears before they spilled down his face; he had never felt heartbreak before Sebastian Smythe but couples fought, sparred with words- he had justified- and when Sebastian had showed up an hour later with a single rose in his hand and eyes brimming with apology, he had known they would always work through the toughest times of their relationship and come out alright.

-

“So, is that a yes? You’ll marry me?” Sebastian had asked still on one knee, the ring presented along with the promise of forever and without hesitation Blaine had answered, “In a heartbeat.”

-

The phone had fallen to the floor, screen cracking on impact as Blaine’s heart had plummeted along with it; it was a phone call he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemies- “ _We’re sorry, your husband was involved in an accident..._ ”

-

Blaine lived to be eighty nine, fingers curled with arthritis, eyes glazed with cataract but his love for his late husband, Sebastian had never faded; not a day had gone by he didn’t wish to see Sebastian again and on the night his heart had slowed its beating, he could have sworn he saw Sebastian, just as he had been on their first date- out of breath, windswept hair, handsome- whispering, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

\---END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [Seblaintine's Day 2017](http://seblaineaffairs.tumblr.com/tagged/seblaintine%27s-day-2017)


	20. Seblaine + S.A.D, Roses, "Let's do it; let's fall in love"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [Seblaintine's Day 2017](http://seblaineaffairs.tumblr.com/tagged/seblaintine%27s-day-2017)
> 
> Considering it's a combination of three prompts, there are 15 lines altogether. :)

Blaine stares at his fingers, skin stained with a deep shade of carmine paint around the edges of his nails as he fiddles with a single stalk of red rose, tracing the silky smooth petals before peeling it off one by one.

The din of the bar does little to comfort his dispirited state but he needed to get out of the house- “ _for some fresh air_ ”- he justifies when really he just needed to escape his brother, Cooper’s over-enthusiastic Valentine’s Day spirits.

It’s not that Blaine hates Valentine’s Day but his mood darkens with the changing seasons as soon as the last leaf falls and the winter gale blusters; he’s irritable, he despairs- something he’s been struggling with for awhile now- like his joy disappears like the sun does behind the winter clouds.

“What’d the rose do to you?” a voice calls from next to him, two seats down the bar, startling him slightly as he self-consciously brushes aside the peeled petals littering the counter, irritated by the intrusion yet he seems compelled to confess, “Not quite my day today, hasn’t been for quite some time.”

Blaine turns to look at the stranger, carefully regarding the mousy brown locks peeking out from under a beanie, mousy brown scruff kissing his cheeks, chin, upper lip and there’s a glint in the stranger’s green eyes as he smiles at him.

Silence hangs between them but Blaine can’t seem to turn away, too drawn to this stranger, glimpsing a familiarity in those eyes but the moment ends all too soon when the bartender asks, “What can I get you?”

The stranger tears his gaze away, chuckling as he spins a piece of coin- no, chip- on the counter chiming, “Just cranberry juice, please.”

That’s when Blaine gets a better look at the chip; it’s a sobriety chip.

The stranger holds the chip up to him as if having heard his thought of “ _I’m pretty certain you’re in the wrong place, pal_ ” and smiles that smile of his again; “One year today- which is a pretty big deal, I guess- and pretty... _daunting_... like I’m just waiting for the other shoe to fall.”

Blaine is stunned by the confession; they’re strangers in a bar- they shouldn’t be able to be this vulnerable with each other- and yet they are.

“I’ve missed this- the atmosphere of it all,” the stranger says looking around the bar and it’s then Blaine realizes what’s drawing him to the stranger; all his anxieties and gloom- even his loneliness that comes with his winter blues- he sees it in this stranger, like they’re kindred spirits and it’s then he decides, “ _Let’s do this- let’s not be strangers_ ”, stretching across the seats to extend a hand.

“Blaine Anderson,” he introduces and it all feels like a new beginning, like the turn of the season when winter shifts to spring the moment the stranger takes his hand with an introduction of his own, “Sebastian Smythe.”

\---

Blaine’s fingers are stained with all the hues of green and red as he puts the finishing touches to the painting, hard at work since dawn, stroking the brush on the canvas like he's conducting a symphony as the lights bathe the room in faux sunlight; light therapy, something Sebastian had helped set up to manage his S.A.D the first year they had started dating.

Sebastian pads into the studio and hugs him from behind, kissing his temple before turning his attention to Blaine’s painting, noting its beauty.

Blaine had painted _van Gogh_ -esque red roses- ten stems altogether- in a weathered but sturdy dark-coloured vase sitting on a counter not unlike the one in the bar they had met years prior; today marks Sebastian’s tenth year of sobriety- one rose for each year- and Blaine is honoured to have been a witness to nine of them as an ‘in-house sober companion’- as Sebastian likes to call him- nine years of being each other’s support, nine years since consciously deciding together: _Let’s do it, let’s fall in love_.

\---END


	21. seblaine + back to school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [Seblaine Sundays](http://seblainesundays.tumblr.com/tagged/Back-to-School): _Back to School._

_We watch the season pull up its own stakes,  
Catch the last weekend of the last week._

The sand between his toes are cool, the body pressed against him is pleasantly warm as they watch the skies lighten with the dawning day, the skies painted a flourish of pink, blue and gentle orange.

There’s an ache that comes with the rising sun, the mark of the end of summer, the start of them going their separate ways once more.

_Another sun-soaked season fades away._

Tomorrow he flies back to London for the start of the new academic year, the start of his final year yet he’s already counting the days when he’ll have Blaine- who’d be flying off to California- in his arms again.

There are days when he’d silently wish the ocean between them away- but they’re chasing their respective dreams so that one day they get to live the one they had dreamed up together.

The rays of the sunrise glints off the new ring on his finger, the brass shining with a promise of forever when Blaine had asked him to marry him and his heart quivers with a newfound joy; despite the sorrow of being oceans apart and of the ending summer, neither will stand in the way of the life they dreamed of making together, the home they intend on building together.

\--END

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> Comments welcomed.


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